


Devil's From Downtown Georgia

by missingnolovefic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, BAMF!Nana, Developing Relationship, Drama, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Nana is a troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: 5 times Ryan left, plus 1 time he took Gavin and Michael with him.Or: Gavin and Michael are overly curious where Ryan vanishes to once a year.





	1. i.-iv.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whalehuntingboyfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Jos! Hope you like this little story :'D
> 
> (I've been waffling about which plot to use for so long, I didn't have enough time to write it. Sorry I had to split it in two, but the other chapter should be up just as soon as I have enough time to finish <3)
> 
> Shout out to Lena for the quick beta <3 stg next time it's not gonna have a deadline

**i.**

They’d gathered at a dark bar, one of Ramsey’s favourites, to celebrate the fifth heist they’d pulled off as a crew. The first one to truly count in Gavin’s opinion. The others had been small fries, to get them used to working together and see what each was capable of. Hitting three corner shops at the same time, holding up a gas station, distracting and confusing the police.

No, tonight was different. They’d nabbed a chopper from the airport.

It wasn’t a grand stunt, and there was little payout, but that _didn’t matter_. More than anything, the chopper symbolized an investment into future heists, into their _crew_. It was as close as sharp-eyed Ramsey came to a promise. A little too deep into his cup, Gavin thought it wise to mention as much to Jones. Or at least try to articulate his thoughts, punctuated with a flailing bottle of beer.

“You make it sound like a fucking marriage proposal, moron,” Jones slurred, but he appeared amused in spite of himself. Gavin squinted at him. “What, you gonna be Ramsey's bitch? Gonna ask him to be your sugar daddy?”

“Oi! Screw you, Jones,” Gavin squawked, pointing the bottleneck at him. “ _You_ ’re the one who keeps kissing his ass. Don’t project your fantasies on me!”

“You fucking piece of shit, come here you!” Jones roared, lunging across the table. Gavin jumped, chair clattering to the ground as he tried to put more distance between them. Brownman groaned, head thunking against the wall behind him. He was unlucky enough to sit between the two lads.

“Dude,” he muttered, “If you guys keep this up, I’ll have to shove you into a closet until you kiss and make up.”

“Fuck you, Ray,” Jones grunted, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair. Gavin eyed him carefully. Jones snorted and saluted him with his own beer. “Fuck you, too, Free.”

“Hear, hear!” Ramsey interjected with a leer, drunkenly swaggering over to their table. “I propose a- a toast! To the crew!”

“Sure, I’ll drink to that,” Ray drawled, sipping on his straw. His glass was nearly empty except for the ice cubes melting away at the bottom.

“To the crew,” Gavin agreed, the words slipping from his lips a little too soft, a little too vulnerable. Jones shot him a look, but Gavin ignored him, tossing his head back and chugging the last of his beer.

“Lemme… lemme grab everyone another round,” Ramsey offered, frowning down at his empty glass. “Where are the other idiots?”

“I’m leaving,” the Vagabond announced, appearing behind him. Ramsey jumped a foot in the air, his glass shattering on the floor. Vagabond turned his head to eye the mess impassively, the skull mask making him hard to read.

“Jesus, dude, give me a heart attack, will you?” Ramsey squeaked, pressing a hand to his chest. Then he frowned. “Leaving? Already? The party just started!”

“Leaving,” the Vagabond drawled, his piercing gaze travelling across the gathered crew. Gavin straightened under that look, a tingle of fear racing down his spine. “As in, I’ll be gone.”

“That’s what leaving usually means, asshole,” Jones said smartly, but his shoulders were tense. “More importantly, when will you be back?”

“Two weeks, if you’re lucky,” Vagabond answered coldly, glaring Jones down. Gavin’s heart sunk.

“Wait, wot? You’re _leaving_ leaving?”

“You can’t just do that!” Ramsey protested, wavering as Vagabond’s calculating eyes landed on him. “We’re successful as dicks! And we’ve just started!”

“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he repeated tonelessly, before adding with an audible sneer, “If you can survive that long, that is.”

With that, the Vagabond turned on his heel and vanished into the crowd. Gavin stared after him, feeling lost. So. That was it, then. He’d lived through many crews breaking apart, but he’d thought this one had potential to be… more.

“The fuck was that,” Jones muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Guess that’s it, then,” Brownman - _Ray_ , Jones had called him - said, shrugging one shoulder. “Let’s face it, he’s gone.”

“Stupid as dicks, is what it is. Who wants a deranged murderer on their team anyway?” Ramsey sneered, trying to regain his dignity.

“He said he’ll be back though,” Gavin piped up uncertainly, shrinking under their attention. “Be stupid not to wait out the two weeks at least, innit?”

“Idiot,” Jones scoffed, dropping his bottle on the table with a thud. “Didn’t you hear him? He’s out. Fuck that noise, I’m out, too. Been fun and all, boys, but it’s time to move on.”

“Now just wait a sec!” Ramsey held up a hand, stopping Jones just as he pushed his chair back.

“I have one more thing planned before we can sell the chopper and split the profit. Then we can all go our own fucking way or whatever.” He nodded towards Beardo, and the redhead gave him a small wave from the bar. “You in?”

“Why not?” Ray shrugged. “Sure, count me in.”

Jones glanced at him and followed his lead. Gavin bit his lip, but nodded. It couldn’t hurt to do this, right? And maybe, if the heist took long enough Vagabond would be back before the crew could break apart. Perhaps he could drag it out, too, pretend the hacking and information gathering was taking longer than it should.

Gavin sat back the rest of the night, distancing himself. He hadn’t realized how invested he’d gotten. How much he started caring.

Not until he had to disentangle himself with the looming threat of the split.

(There were complications and the heist was delayed. Vagabond returned three weeks later, and no one mentioned his absence. He was quickly brought up to speed. And then there was another robbery, and another deal to be brokered, and a new opportunity, and before Gavin knew it, months had passed by. The crew stuck around. And to everyone’s surprise, Vagabond stayed, too.)

 

**ii.**

“I’m taking my vacation days,” Ryan announced, stepping into the living room where everyone was gathered for communal downtime. It was the day after a big heist, and they were all laying low, enjoying their free time. The lads were sprawled across the couch, going through various games. Right now, they were stuck on Super Smash Bros., Ray and Michael fighting for first place while Gavin settled on sabotage.

“You’re doing what now?” Michael asked, bemused. Ryan glanced at him through the mask.

“I’m taking my accrued paid leave. I’ll be back in two weeks,” he explained calmly.

Gavin looked up from the screen, ignoring the game he was playing with the lads. His character paid the price immediately, but Gavin didn’t care, dropping the controller on the floor. Next to him, Ray muttered a protest about the rough treatment of delicate devices.

“What? No! There’s no such thing,” Geoff sputtered. He looked up from his armchair where he’d been reading a book. “No sick days or any of that nonsense- What, do I look like a corporation to you?”

“You do dress like a businessman, Geoffrey,” Gavin chimed in, grinning over both ears. “Like a CEO even!”

“Shut up! I look cool as dicks and not like some… some Corpirate shark!”

“Yar!” Ray yelled, not looking at anyone. Glancing at the screen, Gavin saw him practically slaughter a distracted Michael.

“So, wait,” Jack spoke up, sticking his head in through the kitchen door. “No vacation days? Maybe we should unionize.”

“More like, stage a mutiny,” Michael joked, lifting his hand to hide one eye and grinning at Geoff. When he looked back at the screen, Ray had won. “Motherfucker!”

“Actually, what about health care,” Jack continued with a smirk, crossing his arms and leaning in the door. “And now that I think about it, a retirement fund would be nice.”

“That’s none of my business! You take care of your own damn funds!” Geoff squawked, flailing. “It’s not like we pay taxes!”

“...I do,” Ryan admitted, and they all turned to stare at him. “What? It’s under an alias. I wanted to register to vote here.”

“We do have several fake identities that have a health care plan,” Gavin offered, turning around on the sofa to cross his arms over the back. “I set one up for each of us with the crew funds, just in case.”

“That’s… actually good to know,” Geoff admitted, looking perturbed. “Still doesn’t give any of you dickheads sick or vacation days!”

“So what, we show up for work when we’re sick?” Ray inquired casually, arching a brow at their boss. “You really want all those nasty germs in the penthouse?”

“God, no!” Geoff said hastily, dropping his book and holding his hands up in surrender. “No, fuck, you stay away with those bacteria and viruses and shit. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“...alright. So there _are_ sick days, we’re just not calling them that,” Jack summed up, smirking at Geoff. Then he frowned. “Does this count as a vacation? We don’t have anything planned for, oh, almost a week.”

Geoff groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Gavin moved to sit on the arm of the chair, patting his back.

“There, there,” he said, before pointing at a bemused Ryan accusingly. “No see what you did?”

“I think I broke him,” Ryan drawled, shaking his head. “I need to go, though. I’ll be back.”

“Going where?” Gavin asked quickly, pouting. “Don’t we deserve to know?”

“You did just kill our boss,” Jack pointed out, sounding very reasonable. He came closer curiously.

“Yes, Ryan,” Michael added teasingly. “You got a solo gig? We’re hurt.”

Ryan snorted, and though the mask hid it Gavin _knew_ he was smiling. “You guys are nosy busybodies and I’m leaving.”

“See you in two weeks,” Ray offered, waving him off over the others’ protests. Ryan nodded to him and walked out of the safehouse. The rest stared after him for a long, silent moment, before Michael picked up his controller again.

“‘Nother round?” he asked, and Gavin shrugged, hopping off Geoff’s chair to join the lads on the couch. Jack shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, while Geoff returned to his book. They were well into a round of Mario Kart before anyone spoke up.

“What’d you wager Ryan’s up to?” Gavin asked. Next to him, Ray shrugged.

“Probably a hit. They pay good money, and it’s best to keep that kind of network going, let your contacts think you’re still in the biz,” he said, dropping a banana peel in the game. “Always good to have a backup plan for when things go south.”

Gavin frowned. “Think he’s planning to leave?”

Michael stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s… that’s literally what he said ten minutes ago. Where were you, you idiot?”

“Not like that, you knob!” Gavin squawked, and his character drove off the street. Annoyed, he focussed back on the game. “Like, _wanting out_ leave.”

“I don’t think so,” Ray said with a shrug. “He gave us his name, remember?”

“He gave us _a_ name,” Michael muttered. He was frowning now, too. “And he never takes off that stupid mask.”

“So he has trust issues,” Ray ground out, starting to sound annoyed. “Honestly, in this biz, who doesn’t?”

They dropped the topic afterwards, but Gavin couldn’t help but wonder. Later in his room, he checked the traffic cams, trying to recreate Ryan’s movements. He lost him at one of the big public car parks, the Vagabond’s sleek black machine not showing back up. He must’ve switched vehicles in there. Chewing his lip, Gavin decided to give it a rest, for now.

Ryan would be back. He just had to trust him.

 

**iii.**

“I wonder where he goes every year,” Gavin mused as Ryan stepped into the elevator. He nudged a pawn forward on the chessboard lazily. Jeremy glanced up across from him.

“He does this every year?”

Gavin hummed, eyeing the black rook Jeremy moved thoughtfully.

“Like clockwork. He’ll be back in two weeks,” Michael commented, coming to lean against the wall next to them. Gavin set his queen down two spaces.

“Any idea what he’s up to, boi?” he asked, tilting his head back and ignoring Jeremy’s curses as he scrambled to prevent the check. “You did notice it’s almost the same two weeks every fall, right?”

Michael snorted. “Bet he’s just holed up in his apartment.”

“How much?” Gavin queried immediately, moving the horse without even looking. “Check.”

“Fuck it.” Jeremy shook his head ruefully. “You win. And since when do we get vacation days? Or paid leave?”

Michael considered him with a wolfish grin.

“You should ask Geoff,” he suggested, and Gavin smirked.

“Yes, Lil J,” he added innocently. “Why don’t you ask Geoff?”

Jeremy eyed them warily. “...right. Jack it is.”

“Aw, J.” Gavin pouted. “But that takes all the fun out of it!”

Jeremy scoffed and flipped him off, leaving the two of them by themselves. Michael shook his head, then grinned down at Gavin.

“Twenty grand says Ryan’s just chilling at home.”

“I’ll take that.” Gavin pursed his lips. “We need to prove it though.”

Michael arched a brow, recognizing that tone of voice. It was the same that challenged him to eat a whole ghost pepper, that nudged Ryan to run over a biker or Jeremy to try a backflip off the couch.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked nonchalantly, uncrossing his arms.

“Well, we’ll have to figure out where he went, don’t we?” Gavin pointed out reasonably. “If he’s at his apartment, you win.”

“Or he might be at a safehouse we don’t know about.”

“I’m sure there’s some sort of clue in his apartment as to where he is.” Gavin grinned mischievously, and Michael answered with a smirk of his own. “We’ll just have to look, won’t we?”

Ryan was a paranoid bastard who rarely invited them over, but they both still knew where his main apartment was located. The door was locked when they arrived, however. They knocked and rang the bell, but no one answered. Michael knelt down and pulled out his lockpicks while Gavin stood guard at the corner, leaning against the wall faux-casually.

“Think he’s actually gone, or just toying with us?” Gavin asked nervously, staring down the stairs. Michael grunted.

“Doubt it,” he said, just as the lock clicked open. “He might just be getting groceries, though. We should hurry.”

“He’ll kill us if he finds us here,” Gavin agreed, slipping past Michael and through the door.

He’d only been at Ryan’s place once, but it had been dark then. Looking around now, there were noticeably less bloody bandages lying about. In fact, it seemed more like a typical bachelor pad, except a lot more tidy. There was a flatscreen opposite the sofa, an xbox and controllers sitting neatly in a cabinet below. Ryan’s laptop sat on the couch table, and Gavin made a beeline for it.

“Jackpot! Let’s see what Rye-bread’s been up to,” he murmured, inserting a usb stick. He’d created the security software for the crew himself, and if Ryan was using it on his personal devices… “Bingo! I’m in.”

Michael rummaged through the apartment while Gavin checked search histories and deleted files. The shuffling and scratching noises as Michael went through drawers had Gavin flinch every time, nervously glancing up over his shoulder. Ryan could come back any second.

“Can’t find a suitcase, but there’s a duffle full of weapons under the bed,” Michael announced as he stepped back into the living room. “Not sure how many clothes he usually stocks in his closet, but the heist gear is all here. And- what the fuck is that?”

“Wot?” Gavin asked, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Is that… why does Ryan have [a cactus with a knife taped to the pot](http://funfahcts.tumblr.com/post/159120383535/doodletoodle-omg-so-i-was-reading-the-tags-on-my)?” Michael questioned incredulously. Gavin looked up, blinking in surprise.

“Oh! He kept Mr. Stabby?” At Michael’s disbelieving stare, he elaborated. “It was a joke gift. I can’t believe he kept it!”

“I can’t believe you gave something like that to him in the first place,” Michael snorted, shaking his head. “Idiot.”

“It was a joke!” Gavin objected, sticking his tongue out. He returned to the laptop, frowning at the screen. “I found some stuff Ryan deleted that might give us a hint where he went, it’ll just take a moment to reconstruct the files.”

“Alright. Better hurry, moron,” Michael muttered, glancing out the window. “We still don’t know if he’ll be back, and I’d rather not be here when he does.”

“Then go,” Gavin shot back, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t mind winning twenty grand by default.”

“Fuck you, you piece of shit, how about that,” Michael snapped, stomping off into the bathroom. “I’ll just tell Ryan to kill you first and run while he’s busy.”

“Don’t be a mingey smegpot, Michael,” Gavin called after him, tapping a nail impatiently on the laptop case. The loading bar was going too slow. He let his gaze wander across the room, taking in shelves full of books and dollar store paintings hung on the wall. Ryan liked his clichés, he thought, contemplating the biggest of the paintings. Would he have a safe behind one of them?

With a glance back at the bar (48%), Gavin shrugged and stood up, making his way over to one of the pictures, a train station in sepia tones. Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Gavin grabbed the frame and lifted it slowly-

A crash. A door banging shut.

Gavin jumped a foot in the air, whirling around. Heart beating in his throat, he checked the windows and doors, head swivelling on his neck. The door to the bathroom was closed, Michael nowhere to be seen. He clutched the painting to his chest and exhaled shakily.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, but the entrance door remained shut. Ryan didn’t appear from thin air to glower at him. Gavin inhaled sharply, then let the air go slowly. “Bloody hell.”

He turned back around, disappointed to find no secret safe. As he was about to return the painting, there was the sound of muffled footsteps behind him, followed by a low hum. Gavin tensed mid-action, eyes widening. Hot breath hit his ear, the other person standing right against his back-

“Spooky scary Vagabond sends shivers down your spine,” Michael sang, cackling as Gavin dropped the picture with a shriek.

“Michael! You sodding bastard!” Gavin exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest. “You bloody well scared me!”

“You’re too easy, boi,” Michael laughed, glancing over his shoulder. He stood uncomfortably close still, but Gavin slowly relaxed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Checking for secret safes,” he admitted, stepping back with a sniff. He bumped into Michael. “Obviously, there are none.”

“That’d be a very Ryan thing to do,” Michael hummed in agreement, stepping aside and letting Gavin pass. He shook his head and hung the painting back up. “No skeletons in the closet, sadly. Figure there’s a basement in this place?”

Gavin plopped back down on the sofa, cocking his head. “Don’t think so. There’s the garage of to the side, though.”

“We should’ve checked if any of his personal vehicles are nearby,” Michael groaned, slapping his palm against his face. “We’re idiots.”

“Well, better keep a lookout because I’m nearly done here,” Gavin announced, starting typing again as the loading bar finished. “Just need to delete any trace of us ever being here… and done! We can check the files on the drive back.”

He quickly pocketed the usb stick, before returning the laptop to the table. Michael gave the rest of the apartment a quick once over, and then they were gone. Reverse lockpicking a door closed was a little harder, and Gavin waited impatiently as Michael worked his way through the process. Finally, there was a click.

“There. Okay, let’s go.”

They hurried to the alley they’d parked in, out of view from the apartment building and, more importantly, Ryan. Gavin grabbed his tablet while Michael drove, downloading the evidence they’d gathered. He frowned.

“Anything?” Michael asked curiously, glancing over as they waited at a red light.

“A bunch of plane tickets leading all over the place,” Gavin offered, chewing on his lower lip. “All in different names and paid from different credit cards, some of which overlap timewise and others which wouldn’t be possible to get to in time from the previous locations.”

“Red herrings, huh?” Michael mused, cutting off a truck as he turned a corner. “Any chance of tracking down which is the right one?”

“Maybe…” Gavin looked up, catching Michael’s gaze. “I’ll run the aliases and cards, see if I can’t find finances from the previous years. It’ll help narrow down the possibilities.”

“Sounds like fun,” Michael snarked, pulling up on the highway. Gavin smirked.

“Well, it’s a safe bet to say he’s left the city. So. Pay up.”

 

**iv.**

Someone once said _curiosity killed the cat_. Gavin, however, was a firm believer of the second half of that sentence, _but satisfaction brought it back_.

Last year, they didn’t have much luck tracking Ryan down. Gavin managed to sift through most of the smokescreen, pinning it down to five possibilities - all ending in very different states. This year, Michael and Gavin were ready. Like clockwork, Ryan took time off for about two weeks in fall, and they raced ahead of him to the airport, knowing Ryan would probably switch cars once or twice.

There were three flights Gavin deemed as potential starting points, and he’d gotten both of them tickets on all of those routes under different aliases just in case. They were lounging in the waiting area, keeping an eye out for Ryan and where he’d check in. To make sure he wouldn’t recognize them, they’d both dyed their hair the day before and been wearing beanies everywhere. Decked out in fake varsity jackets and ballcaps, there was no way Ryan would recognize them at first glance.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Michael mused, looking up from his phone. “I mean, if it’s not changing every year.”

“Considering he booked most of the same flights as last year, chances are it’s the same place, innit?” Gavin decided, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees. “Think he’s having a love affair?”

“Someone he only sees once a year?” Michael asked dubiously. Gavin shrugged.

“Maybe she’s married,” he suggested, then snorted. “Can’t see Rye-bread as someone who would cheat, though.”

“Cheating is amoral, but killing is a-okay?” Michael shook his head. “As long as you’ve got your priorities straight.”

“Oi,” Gavin protested, swatting Michael’s shoulder with a frown. “It’s a trust thing. No reason to trust a stranger on the streets not to kill you, right?”

“I guess.” Michael rubbed his shoulder, staring off into the distance. Then he took a double-take. “Is that him?”

It was indeed Ryan, though in an outfit neither of them had seen him in before. The wide dad jeans were the polar opposite of the usual, tight leather he wore. With his hair tied in a topknot and face free of paint smudges, he looked very different. A non-descript black suitcase was rolling behind him, and he headed straight to a terminal. Gavin started rummaging through his backpack, pulling out his notebook while Michael kept a sharp eye on their quarry. A few keystrokes later he made a noise of triumph.

“Alright, got it. And surprise, we got the right tickets, too,” Gavin announced.

“Then let’s hurry up,” Michael ordered, brows furrowing. “There’s enough of a line we might lose sight of him.”

“The better to hide from him,” Gavin pointed out, pulling his cap deeper into his face.

Ryan didn’t seem to notice them at all, nor on the next flight. Gavin had made sure they sat on opposite sides, far in the back to avoid him. There was a moment when he passed them by on the way to the toilet that scared Gavin half to death, thinking they’d been made. After that they nearly lost him at the airport, having trouble getting through the crowds at Hartsfield-Jackson and not knowing where Ryan was heading towards. Luckily, Ryan was a tall guy, and they managed catch sight of him again, leaving them at the train station.

It took them a while to find the right train and get their tickets, but finally they plopped down several seats away from Ryan, but still close enough to keep an eye on him.

“That could have gone better,” Gavin muttered, slumping into his seat.

“It could’ve gone worse too, for sure,” Michael pointed out half-heartedly, cracking his neck. “Goddamn, I never want to run like that again while off work.”

Gavin nodded silently, closing his eyes with a groan. “We need a better way of keeping track of him. Can you see his suitcase? Or something we could drop a tracker in?”

“You brought some?” Michael asked as he craned his neck. “He took off his jacket. If he’s distracted, I might be able to plant the chip.”

“Okay, good. We don’t know how long we have though, he could get off at any station.”

Gavin bit his lip worriedly, dropping the tracker in Michael’s hand. Three stops later, an opportunity arose as Ryan got drawn into a conversation between two arguing soccer moms. Michael waited until someone walked towards them, timing it so he had to step to the side to let them pass at Ryan’s seat. It gave him enough time and an excuse to slip the tracking device into the pocket of the jacket without drawing undue attention. He moved on like nothing happened and returned five minutes later, as if he’d just visited the bathroom.

Gavin tilted his phone to show Michael the tracking app.

“It worked. We’ll have about 20 miles buffer before the signal is too weak or gets lost among other waves,” he explained under his breath. Michael nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Let’s keep a bit more distance, then,” he decided. “Ryan’s a paranoid bastard, it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught on to us yet.”

Ryan stuck with the train until Sandy Springs, leaving Michael and Gavin fidgety as the train emptied around them with every stop, the risk of discovery rising. They slumped low in their seats and hoped for the best. Ryan didn’t even look their way.

The tracking device led them to a garage, before the red dot sped up considerably. Cursing, Michael quickly broke into a car, finding a secondary key taped to the sun visor. It saved them time not needing to hotwire the car, but Michael shook his head at such carelessness. The car started easily, and Gavin hopped into the passenger seat already typing furiously. He navigated them through the main streets, trying to catch up to Ryan to stay within tracking radius.

Fields rolled by outside the window once they left the city behind, and Gavin took a moment to disable the on-board car computer, in case the cops would be called on them. Every now and then they could see Ryan’s car through the ups and downs of the hills. The further out they got, the fewer cars they met.

“What the fuck do you think is he doing in Georgia?” Michael broke the silence, getting bored of the winding highway. There was nothing much to see except for random farm animals every now and then.

“Figure he has a family?” Gavin mused, idly zooming in and out of the tracking map. “A wife on a farm and two point five children?”

“And what, he tells them he’s some traveling businessman or whatever, and just comes home for two weeks every year?” Michael scoffed, scrunching up his nose. “God, I fucking hope not.”

Gavin gave him a careful look. He knew Michael had some family issues, but his boi didn’t like dwelling on the past.

“Maybe he just has a farm and pays people to take care of it?” Gavin suggested. “And now he’s just checking in on Edgar and co.”

Dusk was settling, but Michael avoided turning on the headlights until they reached a heavily forested area. And even then they kept on the edge of the twenty mile radius, trusting in the tracker to keep them on Ryan’s trail.

Until the red dot blinked out of existence suddenly.

“Shite,” Gavin mutter, finger wiping over the touchscreen. “We lost him.”

Michael glanced at him. “Any idea what happened?”

“I don’t know.” Gavin chewed on his lip, dropping the phone in frustration. “He’s probably just out of radius. Let’s speed up a bit.”

But the dot didn’t reappear several miles down the road.

“Could be the batteries,” Michael suggested. “Maybe they went out?”

“Maybe,” Gavin echoed, unconvinced. He was frowning down at the dark screen when Michael suddenly hit the brakes.

A dark car loomed ahead of them, sitting straight across the street, and Gavin frowned, trepidation running like a warning tingle down his neck.

“The fuck,” Michael muttered, drawing his gun and leaving the car. Gavin hesitated before following suit. He watched nervously as Michael walked up to the dark car, illuminated by the headlights of their own stolen vehicle. Gravel crunched underfoot, and Gavin attributed it to Michael walking around, before the snapping of a twig made him whirl around in horror. A hand closed around his throat and he was thrown back against the car, the barrel of a gun digging into his side.

“Who are you,” a deep, familiar voice growled, and Gavin couldn’t help but relax a little. “And why are you following me.”

“Jesus, Ryan, it’s just us,” Gavin squeaked, scrabbling at the arm holding him by the throat. The grip relaxed, and he coughed, rubbing at the sore skin. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Gavin,” Ryan snarled, and the gun still hadn’t vanished. He cocked his head, turning his gaze towards his car. “And Michael, I assume.”

“Goddammit, Ryan,” Michael sighed, holding up his hands in surrender. “You got us.”

“Why,” he repeated darkly, and Gavin was uncomfortably aware of the gun digging into his side. “Why are you here?”

“We were just curious!” Gavin exclaimed, squirming away from the barrel. “You always vanish the same time of the year, like clockwork. We wanted to know what was going on.”

“You could have just asked,” Ryan pointed out coldly. He held up the broken tracker between two fingers with his free hand. Gavin cursed quietly, but didn’t dare move.

“Fine,” Michael agreed, baring his teeth. “What are you doing in buttfuck nowhere, Georgia?”

“None of your fucking business,” Ryan snapped back, but he lowered his gun. “Which is why you’re going to turn back right here.”

“But-” Gavin protested, and Michael jutted his chin out stubbornly.

“I could kill you right now,” Ryan threatened darkly, waving his gun about for emphasis. “By all rights, I should. Stop sticking your noses where it doesn’t belong and get out of my face.”

“You wouldn’t,” Gavin said, exchanging a look with Michael. His boi looked pale in the bright headlights. “You wouldn’t just kill us. We’re crew. We trust you.”

“Are we?” Ryan asked pointedly. “I took of the mask. I told you my name. Yet here you are, invading my privacy, following me all the way here knowing exactly how I would react. All in the name of your own damn curiosity. No.” His face darkened. “I trusted you to respect my boundaries.”

The stab of guilt hit deep, and Michael winced.

“Look-” he trailed off. Gavin grimaced, avoiding Ryan’s ice cold eyes.

“Get out,” Ryan repeated sharply. “Leave now, and I won’t kill you.”

They scrambled to obey, turning the car around in oppressive silence. Gavin stared into the rearview mirror, the dark car and Ryan’s silhouette hard to make out in the late dusk light.

“We really messed that up, didn’t we?” he asked. His voice sounded small, which was fitting. He felt small right now - guilty and selfish.

“Yeah,” Michael whispered, letting out a shaky breath. “Shit, dude. I can’t remember ever seeing Ryan that angry.”

“We pushed too far,” Gavin guessed, huddling into the seat. Neither of them said anything for a long time, before he finally broke the silence again. “What do we do now?”

“We leave him alone and hope it’ll blow over,” Michael suggested. Gavin glanced over and saw the white of his knuckles stark against the wheel. “Fuck, I don’t know. Let’s just hope he won’t keep a grudge.”

“There’s really not much else to do, is there,” Gavin murmured, ducking his head. He stared at his hands in his lap helplessly. “Bollocks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part will be up in a couple days :') Lemme know what you think, here or on [my tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/163193597527/devils-from-downtown-georgia-12)!


	2. v. + 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this part lives up to the hype! Enjoy :D

**v.**

When Ryan returned, Gavin avoided him at first. He was professional on jobs, of course, and Ryan didn’t show any hint of noticing. It took him a while to get his head around what he should be doing, that the best course of action is a sincere apology. He regretted hurting Ryan, thoughtlessly breaking his trust the moment he realized what he’d done. Except, Gavin’s never liked being honest about his feelings, not even to himself. But Jack always insisted on proper communication, and part of that was apologizing for mistakes, so. Once he managed to gather his courage, he went over to Ryan’s room and knocked on the door. It swung open with the force, and Gavin curiously stuck his head in only to freeze.

He’d walked in on a rather unexpected situation.

Michael was sitting in Ryan’s lap and sucking his face as if there was no tomorrow. Ryan's arms wrapped around him, one hand resting on his butt and the other roaming over his shoulder, while Michael’s hands were buried in his hair. Gavin couldn’t blame him - he liked a good snog himself, and Ryan was an unfairly attractive man. But considering he came to apologize for invading his privacy, maybe this wasn’t the right moment.

“I uh, sorry, don’t mind me, I’m going-”

Ryan and Michael broke apart, their faces flush as they turned to stare at Gavin. He could feel the heat rising to his own cheeks.

“Gavin?” Michael asked, blinking in surprise. “What are you…”

“Sorry, sorry, I just came to apologize, I didn’t realize you were preoccupied- I should go,” Gavin babbled, backing out of the door.

“Boi, wait-” Michael called out, sliding off Ryan’s lap and rushing after him. He caught him in the hallway, grabbing his elbow and turning to face him. “Gavin, you can- I mean-”

Gavin glanced from him to where Ryan now stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, arching an eyebrow at them.

“Can what, Michael? It’s fine, I’ll come back later-” Gavin trailed off, avoiding their eyes. His heart was beating fast, but he squashed the nervous butterflies ruthlessly. Now was not the time for that. “You two have… fun…”

“Bullshit,” Michael said, his brow furrowing. He tugged on Gavin’s arm and dragged him back into the room, past Ryan. “I just apologized for the mess last month, too, and I know how much effort it took you to convince yourself to come here, so you’re not getting out of this so easy, boi.”

Gavin shuffled his feet, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Ryan closed the door behind them and turned to look at him expectantly.

“M’sorry about the… the thing. It wasn’t nice to follow you all the way to Georgia just because I was bloody curious.” Gavin glanced up from under his lashes. “And to be fair, I should probably also apologize for breaking into your apartment last year while you were gone. And hacking into your laptop… looking into your finances…”

The more he babbled, the worse he felt. This was a stupid idea. His stomach dropped when he thought about how he violated Ryan’s trust, guilt gnawing at him. Ryan’s face remained blank, and Gavin ducked his head, fidgeting with the hemline of his shirt.

“I- I understand if you can’t forgive me, you have every right to be mad,” he added quietly, forcing himself to look Ryan in the eye.

“We’re criminals,” Ryan started slowly. “We pull illegal and amoral shit daily. What makes our crew different from others is respect and trust.” He paused before adding for emphasis, “You waited for me to take off the mask. Please give me time to reveal this one on my own terms, too.”

“I will! I swear,” Gavin promised hastily, staring at Ryan earnestly. “Like you said, it’s none of my business, and I’ll keep my big nose out of it from now on, even if you decide to never confide in me again, which is the least I deserve for pulling a stunt like that-”

“Gavin,” Ryan interrupted him, stepping closer and laying a finger across his lips. Gavin stared up at him with wide eyes. “It’s fine. Or- it’s not fine, exactly, but I’m not mad anymore. Apology accepted.” He stood there, watching Gavin quietly. “I’m very protective of that particular secret, and just the fact that someone’s been able to track me for that long without me noticing makes me queasy.”

“You did hide it real well,” Gavin promised earnestly, lips brushing against the pad of Ryan’s finger, before he moved it away. “It took me over a year and even then we only managed to get that far because we know you- but! I can help you muddy the trail further if you’d like, make sure no one else can find out?”

“Thank you. I’d like that.” Ryan smiled, dropping his hand on Gavin’s shoulder and squeezing. Then he exchanged a look with Michael. “Actually, we were going to come look for you, after…”

Ryan blushed, and Gavin swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at Michael.

“You were?” he croaked, clearing his throat. “Uh… why?”

“You saw us kissing, right?” Michael started awkwardly, gaze flickering to Ryan’s nervously. “We were talking of how we’ve grown closer, and how much time we’ve been spending together recently, and how it’d make sense to, you know-” He made a short gesture with his hand. “-start dating.”

“Oh,” Gavin said. He felt cold, suddenly, the warmth of having his apology being accepted leaching from his skin.

“I realized how much I missed our outings when we weren’t speaking since I returned,” Ryan added earnestly. He gave Gavin a shy look. “So, uh. What do you think?”

“That’s um. That’s great?” His heart was breaking, but this was absolutely the worst time to bring up his lingering feelings. He’d waited too long to speak up and now he’d lost his chance.

“Yeah?” Michael asked hopefully, perking up. Was it worse that he couldn’t decide who to be jealous of more? Gavin shoved the thought aside and plastered on a smile.

“Of course!” he enthused, and Michael grinned back at him. “I’m happy for you.”

Gavin thought he’d done a good job putting on a mask, but Michael’s smile slipped and Ryan started to frown.

“For… us?” Ryan clarified, sounding confused.

“Yes?” Gavin glanced between them, unsure what he was missing. “You two fit great together!”

It was painfully true, and Gavin swallowed around the lump in his throat. It’s only fair that the two of them got each other instead of Gavin. It was probably for the best in the long run.

“So… Wait, is that a no?” Michael asked, brow furrowing. “That started out sounding a hell of a lot closer to a yes.”

“A yes to what?” Gavin snapped, feeling frustrated. “Yes, I’m happy you two found each other! What else do you want from me?”

“To know if you’re in, too, you moron!” Michael shot back, throwing up his arms. Gavin reared back in surprise.

“Wait, what?” He shook his head, eyes wide. “You’re not making sense, boi.”

Ryan cleared his throat.

“We might’ve not been as clear about our intentions as we thought we were,” Ryan said, exchanging a worried look with Michael. “We were wondering… That is…”

“Do you want to date us, yes or no?” Michael burst out bluntly. Gavin blinked at him, the words only sinking in slowly.

“Date you? Both of you?” he inquired carefully, eyes flickering between them. “Like, all three of us? Together?”

“Yes,” Ryan affirmed softly, staring at him hopefully. “If that’s something you’re interested in…?”

“Of course I’m bloody interested, you knob!” Gavin exclaimed, heart in his throat.

“Well, why didn’t you say so!” Michael shouted, relief in his voice.

“Because I didn’t bloody know what you were asking!” Gavin sputtered, arms flailing through the air. “I thought you meant you-we not us-we!”

“Idiot,” Michael declared, but he sounded so exasperatedly fond, Gavin found himself grinning in response.

“But I’m _your_ idiot now, aren’t I?”

Instead of answering, Michael grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. Gavin responded eagerly, closing his eyes as their lips moved together. The kiss started out forceful, but softened as Michael relaxed, and it only hit Gavin then how nervous his boi had been. It made him feel better about his own nerves and giddy at the same time, to be able to provoke such a response from Michael.

Arms wrapped around him from behind, and a head settled on his shoulder. Gavin blinked his eyes open, and Michael broke off, glancing questioningly up at Ryan.

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckled, hand squeezing Gavin’s hip. “I’m just enjoying the view. Please, continue.”

Michael grinned, and Gavin laughed helplessly, the sound muffled as Michael surged forward to take his mouth again. Giggling, Gavin kissed back, Ryan’s breath tickling his neck. A low fire burned in his gut, and he felt excited as he wrapped arms around Michael, pressing closer. Lips brushed over his shoulder and up his neck, and Gavin gasped into the kiss. Michael took advantage immediately, his tongue darting forth to explore Gavin’s mouth.

When they finally broke off, Gavin glanced over his shoulder and caught startlingly blue eyes. Ryan grinned.

“My turn,” he rumbled, taking a step back. Gavin followed him instinctively, nearly falling into Ryan’s arms in his eagerness. Michael chuckled, catching his elbow and steadying him, stepping up behind him. Michael’s hands dropped to his hips just as Gavin crashed his mouth and Ryan’s together.

Kissing Ryan felt very different from kissing Michael, Gavin thought. There was the same spark, and his toes curled as Ryan nipped on his lower lip. The size difference changed the angle somewhat, and where Michael started out hard before slowing down, Ryan was soft and gentle, then grew more passionate. Both felt damn amazing.

He wanted to keep kissing them forever.

After, nothing much changed, and Gavin realized that Michael was right: they _had_ practically been dating before with how much time they spent together. Now when they’re done causing chaos or simply relaxing, they just sometimes went home with each other. Dates weren’t much different from hanging out, except for the lack of their fellow crew members. And quite honestly, the kisses were rather nice.

Seasons passed, and they settled into a comfortable routine.

Time went by so fast, Gavin only noticed almost a year had gone by when Michael asked him what he wanted to do for their one year anniversary.

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything big,” Michael quickly assured him, holding up his hands in surrender. “I just thought, maybe we should talk about it. So we know what everyone’s expecting and stuff.”

“Don’t want Ryan to throw knives at our heads again?” Gavin asked with a smile.

“It only takes one time before you have to start talking about it,” Michael agreed.

They learned quickly between the three of them all being seasoned criminals, that big surprises didn’t go over well. And after the Valentine’s debacle, where both Ryan and Gavin forgot or didn’t deem it worth celebrating and Michael had a minor breakdown because it was an important day to _him_ , they’d learned to bring up major dates to the others well beforehand.

“I haven’t made any plans yet,” Gavin admitted with a shrug, passing a bowl of Chinese takeout on to Michael. “Any ideas or wishes?”

“What are we talking about?” Ryan asked, carrying another set of bowls to set on the table.

“Anniversary plans,” Michael replied promptly, picking up a fork. “I know it’s still a month from now, but I’d like to know what to expect.”

Ryan froze, bent over the table after setting the bowls down. His eyes flickered from Michael to Gavin, who arched a brow at him.

“Forgot that was coming up, have you?” he teased, willfully disregarding his own ignorance moments earlier. “What, you have other plans already?”

Snorting, Ryan shook his head and finally sat down, grabbing one of the bowls and the only set of chopsticks.

“No, not quite. I’m leaving in three days, but I’ll be back in time, don’t worry.”

Gavin stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth and stared.

“You’re leaving?” Michael asked, voice between dumbfounded and accusatory. “Why?”

“Same reason as every year,” Ryan said, smiling thinly. “I’m going back to Georgia.”

“Back,” Gavin repeated, latching onto that detail. Ryan eyed him carefully and nodded.

“It’s where I grew up.” He glanced over to Michael. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but…”

He trailed off and Gavin exchanged a look with Michael, who nodded back at him firmly.

“We know, Ryan,” he said, laying a hand on his knee. Ryan turned to look at him again, and Gavin smiled reassuringly. “It’s fine.”

“We did promise to wait for you,” Michael added, setting down his bowl. “Nothing’s changed that.”

“Thank you.” Ryan hesitated, but then he gave them a small smile. “Next year, maybe. Now, about that anniversary-”

“Five star restaurant!” Gavin suggested enthusiastically.

“Fireworks on the beach?” Michael offered at the same time. Gavin turned to look at him with a wide grin.

“Both?”

Michael’s answering grin was just as mischievous.

“Both.”

They turned towards Ryan, continuing in unison, “Both is good.”

Ryan snorted just as he took a bite of his noodles. He coughed and laughed, thumbing his chest.

“ _Assholes_ ,” he muttered fondly, and they both started giggling.

**+1**

“You’ll like it, I think,” Ryan said as he drove down the dirt road. They’d all taken different planes and only converged at the parking garage where Ryan kept the jeep. “It’s mostly quiet, but the trees are beautiful and the fruits are great-”

“You’re babbling,” Michael pointed out drily. “Relax. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe we get to meet your family!” Gavin enthused, nose plastered to the window. They were passing by orchards now, several of them bearing fruit. “And you come here once a year to help with the harvest?”

“Sort of.” Ryan glanced out the window as he turned around a corner. “We’re a bit late for peach season sadly. I’d come earlier but… well. My mother likes peach season, too.”

“Aww, so we missed meeting your mom?” Gavin asked, pouting into the rearview. Ryan shot him a blank look.

“Believe me, it’s for the best. She’s a divorce lawyer.” He turned his eyes back on the road, adding bitterly, “She’s got more than enough experience for that.”

Michael and Gavin traded careful looks.

“Not a big fan, huh?” Michael asked off-handedly, then waved him off. “It’s fine. I’m not much of a peach guy, anyway.”

“So what _is_ in season then?” Gavin quickly changed the topic, bouncing in his seat. “I saw grapes earlier! Do you think there’ll be grapes?”

Ryan thought about it for a second. “There should be some. Depends on how well they’ve ripened this year, but yes. Why?”

“I want to laze about in bed or on the veranda and be fed grapes by my loving boyfriends,” Gavin declared, batting his eyes at them. “Is that too much to ask?”

They pulled up to a nice old farmhouse, surrounded by several orchards. The facade was showing some wear and tear but appeared to have recently been repainted. Flower pots framed the balustrade, and a little old lady was sweeping the front porch. Ryan parked next to the barn and took a deep breath.

“So. Here we are.” He turned to look at them with a crooked grin. “Hope you are ready to meet my nana.”

Michael reached across to punch Ryan’s shoulder, while Gavin propped his chin on the backrest of Ryan’s seat.

“How bad could it be, really?” he said philosophically. “She’s just a nice old lady, I’m sure.”

Ryan snorted and opened the door. “You’ll eat those words later, dear. Nana is… something else.”

They grabbed their bags from the boot and walked across the yard to the front porch. The old woman stopped to watch them, squinting against the sun.

“James, sweetpea, is that you?” she called out, leaning the broom against the flowery balustrade. “Come let me look at you, boy.”

“Hello Nana,” Ryan greeted, smiling as she grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him still as she eyed him critically. “I’m fine. Yes, I’ve been eating properly, no, I’m not bleeding.”

Nana harrumphed. “I’ll be the judge of that, young man.”

“I’m no longer a growing boy, Nana,” Ryan replied exasperatedly. She sniffed and raised her chin, before deftly changing the topic.

“And did you bring your boys, like you promised?” Nana asked, squinting past him. Michael lifted his hand in greeting.

“You’re not nearly as blind as you pretend to be,” Ryan accused her, stepping aside and beckoning them closer. “Nana, this is Michael, and this one is Gavin.”

“Nice to meet you, Ma’am,” Michael offered as he held out his hand. Nana arched a brow at him, reminding Gavin vividly of Ryan in that moment. She shook his hand graciously enough, before she turned to look at Gavin, who startled to attention.

“Uh, yes, um, hi, hello,” he stuttered, blushing in embarrassment. Nana reached out and patted his cheek.

“No need to be nervous, dear,” she assured him. She shot Ryan a look. “No matter what grand tales James must have been spinning. Don’t listen to him, he lies. You missed the peaches, sweetpea."

“Maybe I just wanted to steal your pears instead, hm?” Ryan offered with a bright grin, winking at her unimpressed expression.

“Pah! As if.” She caught Gavin’s wide-eyed star. “What did I tell you? Liar.” Then she turned around and waved for them to follow her. “Come on in, I saved you some peach cobbler. There’s even enough for your boytoys.”

Michael choked, nearly eating shit on the steps of the porch. Gavin’s mouth fell open and he gaped as Ryan groaned, face flushing a deep red.

“Nana!” he complained, following her through the door. “It’s boy _friends_ , Nana!”

“Pah. You younglings and your ever-changing slang. How is an old lady supposed to keep up with all that?” Nana’s reply drifted out from the deeper inside the house, and Gavin and Michael traded shell-shocked looks. “When I was your age…”

“Ryan wasn’t exactly wrong,” Gavin said, peering through the door and down the dark hallway.

“...she’s certainly something,” Michael agreed, shaking his head. He reached out for Gavin’s hand and squeezed it. “C’mon, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Ryan wasn’t kidding when he said he came here to help. The first week was spent out in the orchards, helping with the harvest or pruning trees. They even took down a tree together, even though Nana insisted she could call up the gardener from the nearby town, but Ryan remained stubborn and Michael was itching for some good destruction, so she let them.

Gavin watched from a safe distance as his boyfriends plotted the tree’s demise.

“You’re good for James,” a voice spoke up from his right, and Gavin tensed, not having noticed the old woman sneak up on him. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long while.”

“We try our best,” Gavin replied modestly, ducking his head. He didn’t really know how to deal with such compliments. “He’s… important to us.”

Nana hummed contemplatively, watching as Michael climbed the ladder to saw the bigger branches off first. Ryan was holding the ladder steady while arguing animatedly how to go about their endeavour. Nana shook her head, turning to smile at Gavin.

“So! How did you meet my grandson, hm?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her. “I do not believe I’ve heard this story yet.”

“Oh! Uh…” Gavin hesitated, glancing over to Ryan. He had no clue if he’d told his nana about their criminal activities. “We, uh, met at work?”

“Splendid, splendid!” Nana enthused, her face brightening. She clapped her hands together eagerly. “So are you a banker as well? Do you work at the same bank as James?”

“I- uh. Yeah!” Gavin fumbled for words, playing with the hem of his shirt nervously, “I uh… got transferred there so uh. That’s how we met.”

Nana was nodding in eager understanding, grabbing Gavin’s fidgeting hand and grasping it in both of hers. “Be honest with me, dear. I may be old, but I’m no fool.”

His eyes widened and sweat gathered in the back of his neck. Nana held his gaze seriously.

“Los Santos… that’s a dangerous city, especially working at a bank. The crime rate is so high, that’s all everyone hears. Have you been at work during one of those awful robberies?”

Gavin nodded slowly, remembering all the times with a balaclava covering his face, the weight of a gun in his hands as they rolled up to a bank. Technically, it was even true.

Nana leaned in close and whispered in that same serious tone, “You’ll keep my boy safe, won’t you?”

“I promise,” Gavin answered honestly, swallowing hard. “I don’t want anything to happen to him, either. Michael, too.”

“Good.” Nana squeezed his hand before letting go, turning back to where Ryan and Michael had devolved into something of a shouting match. She smiled fondly. “I will go prepare some lemonade, hm? Maybe some chocolate chip cookies as well.”

“Cookies would be great,” Gavin managed, staring after her, head still whirling. Nana was a force to be reckoned with for sure.

 

* * *

 

Low murmurs in a foreign tongues reached Gavin’s ears as he walked down the hallway. He paused, hovering close by the door. He recognized them as Ryan and Nana after a moment, but not the language they were speaking. Gavin frowned. He didn’t know Ryan was bilingual. But then, it never really came up except for that one awkward time where it turned out Ray _didn’t_ speak Spanish.

“Nana!” Ryan spluttered. She said something else in that language, tone teasing. “God, no! Why would you…”

Someone tapped him on his shoulder and Gavin jumped, glancing over his shoulders. Michael gave him a skeptical look, opening his mouth-

“-look on his face, James. I cannot believe anyone would be gullible enough for the banker cover,” Nana exclaimed in amusement, the same moment Gavin’s hand slapped over Michael’s mouth. His boi gave him an unimpressed stare and pried the hand loose.

“Who’s supposed to be a banker?” he called out, stepping past Gavin and into the living room. He cringed, but curiously followed after, now that his hiding spot had been compromised.

“James, here,” Nana cackled in her arm chair, knitting needles lying forgotten in her lap. Ryan shot her an indignant look.

“I can very well pass as a banker if I so please, thank you.”

Michael snorted, plopping down on the couch next to him. Gavin chose to perch on the armrest instead, resting his arm on the backrest behind Ryan. His boyfriend glanced up at him and smiled softly, leaning back so his head brushed against Gavin’s arm. Then his attention was drawn back into the discussion.

“You? A banker? Please,” Michael scoffed, bumping their shoulders together. “You’re too much of a rebel for anyone to buy that.”

“You would be surprised, young man,” Nana cackled, picking up her needles again. “Why, I remember the last time he brought a date home. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more gullible person in my life! It was almost pitiful if it weren’t for his rather annoying arrogance.”

“I thought we were never talking about that ever again.” Ryan grimaced, adding almost sullenly, “Besides, _you’re_ the one who always insists it’s important to be underestimated.”

“Not with the people that matter, sweetpea,” Nana rebuked gently, arching a brow. “Needless to say, I was very glad to see the last of that fellow. The girl that visited with you for a while, now that would’ve been a proper match.”

Ryan’s sigh was nearly lost among the busy clicking of Nana’s needles. “I told you, we’re just friends.”

“Shame, that,” Nana tsked, shooting Michael a mischievous look. “Proper beauty, she was. They’d have such pretty babies.”

“Yeah?” Michael asked, bemused. He nudged Ryan teasingly. “See, I told you, you couldn’t do boring. No settling down with a wife and a white picket fence.”

“She’s an assassin,” Ryan said dryly, grinning down at Michael. “I doubt settling down would be on her mind any time soon.”

“Would’ve fit right in with the family,” Nana sighed mock disappointedly.

“An assassin?” Gavin clarified, startled. “On a farm?”

Nana chuckled. “Oh, not that much more far-fetched than a cold war spy retiring on a farm in Georgia, my boy.”

“You were a spy during the cold war, Ma’am?” Michael asked, leaning forward. Gavin felt intrigued, too. Nana nodded solemnly.

“FIB counter intelligence,” she stated proudly, pausing in her knitting to glance up at them. “I’m really happy that James decided to continue the family tradition.”

Gavin shifted awkwardly on his perch, trading a helpless look with a confused one from Michael. Ryan groaned, hiding his face behind his palms.

“ _Nana_ ,” he protested, sounding resigned. She replied something in that foreign tongue and cackled.

“Of course, I then married the old fox I’d been hunting for decades. A real life Al Capone, that one,” she continued in English, and Gavin frowned. There was a sharp edge to her grin that made him think she was lying. “A rake, that one, but he did have enough set aside to buy this farm for us. Of course, the FIB couldn’t know, so I had to fake my death “

“Nana, please,” Ryan begged, adding something in that other language. Nana replied in the same, and they shot back and forth rapidly until their little argument was settled. It was a bit like watching a ping pong match and not understanding what was going on.

“Don’t worry, dears, I’m just messing with you,” Nana offered finally in English. “I’ve spent most of my life living on this farm, ever since I married my late husband. We were both rather young back then, freshly in love and so eager to start our mundane life together. But an old woman has to get her entertainment from somewhere, hm?”

Gavin still got the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Like there was something he was missing. Ryan gave a resigned sigh, but Michael was grinning brightly at her.

“Want us to share some of our adventures, then?” he asked her eagerly. Nana’s eyes lit up and she nodded back at him thoughtfully.

“And live vicariously through you youngins?” She smirked, and Gavin felt unsettled anew. “Please, be a dear.”

As Michael launched into a story of one of their more embellished shenanigans, involving a cop chase in one of Jeremy’s ridiculous bright orange cars, Gavin slipped down from the armrest and settled into Ryan’s side, watching Nana carefully. She gave no hint that she was aware of the scrutiny, but somehow Gavin _knew_ she knew.

 _Important to be underestimated_ , indeed.

She’d spun her tale of quiet farm life with the same self-assurance as she’d lied about being a retired FIB agent. So. What was the truth?

Ryan raised his arm and laid it across Gavin’s shoulders, kissing his temple. Gavin glanced over to him and smiled, letting himself be distracted from his thoughts. Michael soon drew them into a retelling of another heist but blatantly lying about their contributions and shifting the blame, and Gavin squawked, hurrying to quickly set the record straight. Nana watched them bemusedly, eyes dancing.

Later that night, as they were cuddling in bed, Gavin laid his head on Ryan’s chest and decided, fuck it. He glanced up, catching sharp blue eyes, and realized that this, too, was something Ryan had inherited from his grandmother.

“So is your nana an actual spy?”

Michael’s fingers paused as they slid through his hair, his boi heaving up on an elbow to stare down at him incredulously.

“Of course not, moron.” He laughed, before quickly glancing at Ryan for affirmation. “...right?”

“I mean…” Ryan paused, dropping the book he’d been reading onto the pillow to look at them. “...not anymore?”

“Holy shit, Ryan,” Michael exclaimed, staring at him in shock. “Really? She was a FIB agent?” He stopped, brow furrowing before he added, “Does she know what we do?”

“Well, she’s not with the FIB, so…” Ryan hesitated, shrugging uncomfortably. “And well, she knows what _I_ do. I’m sure she’s deduced what you’re up to by now, too.”

The words finally shoved the last piece of the puzzle into place for Gavin. “Son of a- _That’s_ why she asked me how we met.”

“She did?” Ryan asked, calmly curious. “What did you tell her?”

“That we met at work,” Gavin admitted ruefully. “Didn’t know what you’d told her, you know. Then she started with that whole banker crap.”

“Sounds like Nana,” Ryan decided, sounding fondly exasperated. He rolled over to face them. “She raised me, you know. After Mother… well. After the divorce, I stayed here most of the time. Taught me everything I needed to start in this… _career_.”

“She taught you how to contact criminals?” Michael asked lightly, baffled.

“That, too. Mostly how to lie properly, how to fake an I.D. and how to shoot. There’s a gun bunker under the barn with a small shooting range.”

“Huh. What kind of spy would raise a criminal?” Gavin asked, puzzled. That was the only piece of information that didn’t want to fit into this new picture being painted. Ryan shot him a crooked grin.

“An enemy of the US,” he explained, lowering his voice. Michael leaned in, nearly squishing Gavin under his weight. “Nana’s a Russian spy. Grandpa never knew - he really was just a farmboy in love with a city girl. Nana says I inherited his sense of justice… and her anti-authoritarian streak.”

“Oh! So that’s what you spoke earlier!” Gavin realized, grinning delightedly. “You were speaking Russian!”

“Indeed.” Ryan’s smirk softened into a smile, and he raised a hand to cup Gavin’s face. “So. There it is. My last torrid secret.”

Michael choked down a laugh, shaking his head.

“Damn, Ryan. Your life’s like a comic book, you nerd.” He hesitated for just a second, before reaching over Gavin and encircling Ryan’s wrist loosely. “And I get that… that’s not really your secret to share, and we’ve just been together for almost a year- we’re not mad you kept it.”

“Right,” Gavin agreed hastily, turning to press his lips to Ryan’s palm. “Your Nana’s okay with you telling us?”

Ryan nodded slowly. “She gave me permission earlier. In Russian. Says you’re keepers and I better keep you or else.”

“Why didn’t she tell us, then?” Michael inquired, chewing on his lip. “Like, she was making up all these stories-”

“Nana just likes messing with people.” Ryan snorted. “After she retired, there’s not been much excitement going on for her. This way, she keeps her skills sharp and gets to see people’s reactions to whatever she’s brewed up this time.”

“She’s a troll,” Gavin concluded, giggling. “Oooh, I think I like her.”

“Thought you might.” Ryan thumbed over his cheek, before leaning in and kissing him lightly. Then he leaned over his shoulder and kissed Michael, too.

“Oh yeah, she’s a real peach,” Michael joked. It took a moment for the pun to sink in, and then Gavin groaned, burying his face in the pillow.

“Michael!”

“Get it? Because we’re on a farm in Georgia-”

“ _Michael!”_

“What? It’s not _that_ bad,” Michael protested with a shit eating grin. “Ryan back me up!”

Instead, a pillow landed on his face. “Shut up, Jones.”

Michael pulled the pillow of and narrowed his eyes at Ryan. “Traitor. You know what this means?”

“Oh yeah?” Ryan grinned back challengingly. “Bring it on, big boy.”

Gavin squawked, trying to crawl out from between them and avoid the pillows being thrown and slapped left and right. He was still giggling, though, and his boyfriends noticed before he could escape.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easy, boi!” Michael declared, catching Ryan’s eye. “Truce to get Gavin?”

Ryan smirked beatifically. “Truce.”

Gavin yelped and just managed to drop to the floor, scrabbling up and away as his boyfriends turned on him. Turning, he blew them a raspberry.

“Gotta get me first!”

Nana watched them fondly as they trampled down the hallway yelling loudly, as she leaned in the door to her bedroom.

“Oh, to be young again,” she murmured to no one, shaking her head and closing the door with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, I'd love to hear from you - either here or on [my tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/tagged/ingno-writes)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Devils Slumming in Georgia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199502) by [mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego)




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